This past weekend, I tried something new . . . something I never had envisioned myself doing - I preached a sermon. I somehow managed to graduate from bible college without ever delivering a sermon, so when our pastor approached me this summer about preaching, I was both nervous and excited to try something a bit outside of my comfort zone.

I was not prepared for just. how. challenging. it was going to be.

Let's be clear about one thing - the enemy is not a fan of truth being proclaimed. PERIOD. The attacks prior to delivering the sermon were brutal - Tanner and I were at odds with one another, our girls were sick and fussy, I (randomly) got poison ivy so bad that I had to start taking steroids (which DO NOT help you act nice). Life felt insane, and yet somehow, I was trying to grasp at some sort of peace, calm, and depth to prepare to deliver a message to my community of faithful sojourners.

I have an entirely new appreciation for those that prepare and deliver sermons week after week. Sure, I had all the stress that you would perhaps expect - I wanted to treat Scripture with integrity, I desired to be accurate in my interpretation and presentation of the text, and it remained paramount that the good news of Jesus' life, death and resurrection be proclaimed. Also, I desperately wanted to be true to the journey of faith that God has had me on. And so, as I attempted to hold all of these desires together in a creative tension of sort, what came of it was a message that I pray God uses to continue to encourage others in their own faith journey.

It's a message about suffering and pain, yet simultaneously, a hopeful reflection that I pray encourages you to find even the tiniest of space in your heart today to believe that redemption really is beautiful and is already at work.